Two Blonde Braids and a Tournament
by angels weep before they fly
Summary: Or, A True and Unbiased Personal History of the Formation and Structure of Team Maraqua and Other Related Events, by Elon Hughlis (who still doesn't understand why he was the one chosen to captain the team).
1. Prologue

Hello! This was inspired by many headcanon discussions on the WAM board, especially by Rooke, Rin, and Jessy, to whom this piece is dedicated to. I don't know when it's going to be updated, as I'm really kinda busy at the moment, but know that I've got a whole world in my head just for this fic.

Thanks for reading, and review if you liked it! (bonus points for guessing why I chose the jersey number I did- you'll get it soon enough.)

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise.)

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><p><em><strong>Prologue, or, How my childhood hero retired.<strong>_

When people ask me about the formation of the Altador Cup as a worldwide competition, they expect a story riddled with goals scored, with amazing shots made with Darigan Yooyus seconds before a match was going to end. They're wrong. Sure, there were countless practise sessions, breakdowns, fights and everything the official history records, but for me, Team Maraqua began in a different way.

I first met Dorina Hals when I was twelve. Her father was giving a retirement speech, and I was hanging off his every word. He played for Teal, which wasn't as bad as United, but automatically meant that I shouldn't like him. His pure talent and status as the best Right Forward in the League, even at 34, made me love him despite the team he played for. As a kid, Kieren Hals was all I ever wanted to be (minus, of course, the fact that he played for Teal). _Every_ kid in Maraqua wanted to be him. I remember the overcrowded stadium, the quiet that fell as Kieren Hals was speaking. I remember my best friend, Barit, even then a tall, skinny kid, quivering with excitement. We were kids, waiting until the speech was over, and everything died down so that we could accompany Barit's mum into an interview with _the_ Kieren Hals. I was never as happy that Barit was my friend, and that his mum was a leading MYL journalist as I was in that moment.

I never got to meet Kieren Hals that day, but I did meet his daughter. Even though it was a restricted entry event, there were still crowds flooding the room, trying to get to the man of the moment for the last time. So I hung back, waiting for the Jowes family to come back- not even a Yooyuball legend could get me to go through a crowd that big, that compressing. When the little girl with dark blonde hair in two braids sat down against the wall next to me, I almost didn't notice. She looked younger than nine- perhaps it was the braids, perhaps the too-big Teal jersey that ended past her hands, stained with sand and silt from the ocean floor. The black mark on one sleeve marked it as real- a mark of a Clockwork Yooyu exploding too close to the player that had once worn it.

"Where'd _you_ get that?"

"Lotsa' people". We'd spoken at the same time, her head gesturing towards the crowd milling about the room. I didn't quite know how to respond. I was of that age where I thought that even being _near_ someone younger was embarrassing, and I didn't know, or want to know, how to look after her. But she'd heard my question, and when she turned her back to me to show me the number 15 and the name 'HALS' on the back, she didn't seem so uncool anymore. Because this little kid had managed to get a real, match-worn Kieren Hals jersey, and twelve-year-old me wanted to know how.

"It's my daddy's. He's up there, but there's a lot of people who wanna talk to him, and it's a bit scary." All I could do was nod along. This was Dorina Hals, then, the daughter of Kieren. I could see the resemblance now- the same colour hair, the same features as her father. I wanted to ask her so many questions- about her dad, about playing, about going to matches every week across Maraqua. But I didn't. Usually I would've burst with all my questions, but that day something in me made me stop. I only said a few words more to her before I left.

"You're Dorina, then." She nodded at me, and smiled. I remember seeing a gap where one of her teeth had fallen out.

"I'm Elon."


	2. Chapter 1

Hey everyone- it's AC time again, which means I got inspired for this again, so thanks to everyone (Kisho and Rooke primarily) on WAM for asking me to finish the chapter and put it up :) xx Rae

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><p>The night I met Dorina Hals stuck with me as I grew up, though often I didn't think of the little girl in the oversized jersey. I would dream of myself in the place of Kieren Hals, being loved across Maraqua for Yooyuball, doing what I loved for the rest of my life, or so 34 and retirement seemed at that time. Somehow my fear of crowds was forgotten whenever I didn't have to face it; in my dreams I'd be crushed under people swarming me as I held the Maraquan Yooyuball League trophy aloft, after scoring the winning goal for Whitereach. I always, always wanted to play for the Whitereach Wave. It was my favourite team as a kid, and its white and red colours dominated my room, my clothing and my thoughts. Growing up, it was a just a kid's dream, but then slowly more and more kids stopped playing Yooyuball in the junior leagues, and it was just Barit and me left out of all of our group of friends.<p>

Then it got serious- I can't even really remember how it happened, but suddenly I was 17, at regional trials with a hundred other kids competing for fourteen places on one team. Suddenly scouts from _the_ MYL were watching us play. Suddenly the dreams of a child weren't so far away from reality. I made the team. So did Barit. And so did twelve others, all incredibly talented players. It meant that during school holidays, the fourteen of us played against the 7 other regions of Maraqua in the hopes of impressing a scout from one of the 17 League 1 teams. All any of us wanted was to play professionally. At this point, the likelihood of it actually happening just kept increasing the more we won and the better we played.

I realise not all lands in Neopia have their own individual leagues for Yooyuball, let alone the complicated drafting system that we do. I know that of all the lands, the Altador and Terror Mountain systems are closest to ours, with a strong focus on junior leagues, and then slowly building up to the major intra-Maraquan competition that's followed by nearly everyone in the land. I guess the expanded system is due to the fact that despite the international competition playing under 5 per-side rules, the Maraquan League operates under a 10 player per team, per game system that made it easier for players to gain a place in a team. It was to the draft of that competition that I was invited just before I turned 18, along with the others my age eligible (and deemed by at least one club talented enough) to be drafted that year. Most teams still had multiple places open. Coral Forest, even though they'd won the year before, had had 4 players retire, opening up 20% of their 20-player squad to draftees. Whitereach had only one spot left, in the forward line. I wanted it. But in the grand hall, looking around at all the others hoping to be chosen, I was fairly confident I wouldn't get it.

One of my main competitors, a guy named Filo Desenz, was the person I thought would get it- he had the enviable ability to play well in both the forward and back lines, and I thought that Whitereach would be able to utilise him well in years to come.

Of course, most of you know that I was taken by the Whitereach Wave at pick #7, filling the one spot I'd been craving for years. I can easily say that the moment I stood on stage with the other first-round picks, holding the white jersey with the red waves on it proudly, was one of the best memories I have. The jersey from that day is still hanging on one of my walls at home. It had been signed on the night by the members of the team in attendance, as well as some of the coaching staff as a congratulations on being drafted. This included the illustrious captain of Whitereach, Jair Tollet; infamous for her sharp wit and quick thinking, I was so overwhelmed to actually meet her that I forgot we'd be playing together the following year. Suddenly I was a player, not a fan. People were everywhere, it seemed, wishing me luck, congratulating me, warning me that the game was much tougher in first-grade than ever before. After a while, it all got a bit… much, all the people surrounding me, pressing into my space. It was a rush of emotions, every second blurring into one big mess of time. And it was a bit much. So I took a little break from it all, sneaking out into a quiet corridor away from everything, looking down over the lights of the city shining through the Maraquan water. I think that was when it actually hit me, that I'd made it. I was definitely glad that I was alone for that realisation- that everything I'd ever dreamed of was coming true, save the fact that for the first time ever, Barit and I would be playing on different teams. That part made me sad.

So I sat there on the floor of a quiet corridor, thinking over everything that had just happened in the past couple of hours. I had been taken by Whitereach. I now played for Whitereach. I would be playing against Barit, maybe even directly against him, at defensive midfield to my Right Forward. I don't know how long I sat there before someone joined me, sliding down the wall to sit with me on the floor, wrinkling his expensive suit. I looked over to my left, where Kieren Hals was leaning back against the wall, relaxed, casual, and looking right back at me. He smiled and held out his hand for me to shake.

"I'm Kieren, nice to meet you."

I'm sure that my facial expression wasn't the most natural in the world, pink creeping up my neck over my face as a sure sign of my nervousness in front of this legend of the sport. And here he was, right in front of me, normal as anyone I'd ever met, and inviting a conversation. I think I stuttered out a nervous "H… um, hi, er, I'm… Elon. Um, Elon Hughlis- I think I'm allowed here, but, um, if I'm not, I can just… move…" I waited for a second, before adding a short, awkward "Sir" to the end of whatever I'd just blurted out to my childhood hero. He was calm, measured.

"No, no- everything's fine. I think, actually, you're taking this very well." Was I? I didn't think hiding out in a lonely corridor was exactly 'taking it well', but I decided not to voice this opinion in case another fractured pile of words came tumbling out of my mouth. My disbelief must have shown on my face.

"Yes, you're just sitting here. Marget Quake, do you know her?" I did. She was a violent, but passionate and talented forward. "We just selected her with pick #4, no idea why, but anyway she's gone and called everyone she knows to tell them the news. Quite loudly. The team managers have already had to have a little chat with her about public behaviour." He said, shaking his head and smiling. I laughed, despite myself. It _was_ pretty funny- I could easily imagine confident Marget talking herself up to all her friends and (large) family. Kieren Hals laughed too. I was slowly starting to see him as a normal person, not as this perfect idea I'd built up of him- but he was still very, very cool.

"I wanted them to pick you, you know."

"Me?" I was utterly, completely shocked. "_Why_?"

"You're talented, much better than Quake is. I think you'd fit in very well with the team, too. Your natural passes and fake movements are very similar to plays we use in training." He leaned a little closer to whisper "But I shouldn't be telling you any of that, so let's pretend you didn't hear it, yeah?" I nodded, still stunned that 1. Kieren Hals knew who I was and had wanted me to play for his team, and 2. Kieren Hals and I now had a shared secret. That second part was probably a much bigger deal to nearly-18-year-old me than me now.

"Um, sir… if you don't mind me asking, why did Teal pick Marget instead of me, if you wanted…"

"I don't make the decisions around Greater Maraqua, as much as the press would have you believe. No, I was focused on your ability, but they thought you didn't interview well enough. They thought you seemed a bit nervous. Whitereach'll help you with that, though. It's a shame they went with Quake. I would have liked to mentor you."

He stood, helped me up, and then walked back with me into the grand room, somewhat calmer and quieter than it was when I had left it. Barit noticed me come in, and it was nice to see him again for the first time since the draft, the relief evident on both our faces at finally being picked, having no more anticipation at what the future might hold. I looked at him, in the coral and black stripes of Coral Forest, and he looked behind me, to where Kieren Hals had disappeared into the crowd, and then we both looked at each other and burst out laughing, overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Someone took a photo of that, and it ended up being used in the Maraquan Telegraph- Barit and I, not letting a silly thing like being selected for different teams get in the way of a 14-year friendship. Barit's mum did the interviews with all the top ten picks, getting us to talk about our strengths, our weaknesses, what we were looking forward to in the next year. I think if it had been anyone else other than Mrs Jowes, I would've completely freaked out, but as it was, I could easily talk to someone I'd known for over a decade, about something I completely and utterly loved- Yooyuball.

It was both good and completely terrible, letting the media know of our close friendship. I mean, it was really difficult helping Barit move out of home, well away from where we'd grown up and spent all our time together. He would be moving across the ocean, into an area famous for its bright coral reefs and youthful, exuberant nature. Inwardly, I hoped Barit wouldn't get dragged into the party culture as I'd heard had happened to some of the young girls drafted there the previous year, but rationally, I knew he was much more sensible than that. Meanwhile, I'd be able to stay home, living with my parents and younger brother with the training grounds only a short swim from my house. On one hand, I was happy I'd get to stay, and be able to see my family every day, but on the other, Barit had become as much a part of my family as any blood-related member, and I knew I would miss him as much as I would miss any one of them. During the move, I didn't really notice anything happening- I preferred to focus more on the last time we'd be spending together for a while. His parents had taken the other vehicle, letting us two boys spend just a little more time before we'd officially be rivals. It was nice, chatting, laughing, forgetting that little fact, but after I'd left with his family to make the long trip back, I realised that the bright flashes of light I'd been seeing weren't headlights, but camera flashes, trying to catch a glimpse of us- and one paper did. They ran a story, maybe some of you remember it, about the two of us and the 'mental trauma' it would cause us to be separated and forced to compete against each other. Mrs Jowes thought it was rubbish journalism, but she couldn't really do anything about it, and thankfully it all died down once training began.

We weren't the first players to be friends in opposing teams, and, well, we certainly aren't the last- especially once the Altador Cup started and the whole Maraquan team became very good friends that I hope I'll have for life. But that's a story for much later.


End file.
